I Will Possess Your Heart
by elenwyn
Summary: “Think about it, Claire,” he murmurs, “Could you survive all alone in a world where everyone you care about is gone?” Sylaire one-shot. Spoiler/spec for the season finale.


**A.N: **I wrote this fic a couple of days ago, when we got certain news regarding Sylar and Claire. Needless to say, this fic contains **spoilers and speculation for the finale of Season 3**, so don't read on if you don't want to know. Also, lyrics and title taken from Death Cab For Cutie; _"I Will Possess Your Heart"_ which is _such _a Sylaire song :)

* * *

"_How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me._

_It's like a book, elegantly bound, but in a language that you can't read just yet."_

_--_

He speaks to her like he's known her for a lifetime, stretches his arm slowly, winding around her shoulder. The glass of wine sits frozen in her hand. She can't move, not because she's being forced to stay there, but because the anger inside her is bubbling up at such a pace she can't bring herself to.

As much as she hates Sylar, there's something in his eyes that always leaves her questioning.

And now he puts more questions in her head, questions of long stretches of time and a potential eternity alone.

"Think about it, Claire,"He murmurs in that quiet tone of his, brushing one tendril of hair back behind her ear, and she looks down her nose at him in disgust, "Could you survive all alone in a world where everyone you care about is gone?"

Peter and Nathan show up to save her, anger burning in their eyes. Her father brandishes a rifle in her captor's direction, a useless weapon, but she doesn't stay long enough to see the consequences. Peter swoops her up in his arms, and she's grateful for the rescue, but all the time two words buzz around in her mind.

_Could she?_

_---_

"_You've gotta spend some time with me._

_And I know that you'll find, love, I will possess your heart."_

---

It's three weeks later and the battle is over, anonymity is restored. Claire is busy unpacking in her new room at the Petrelli mansion, Angela stating very matter-of-factly over Emile Danko's dead body that family belong together, and that was that.

She's unpacking some fancy looking blouson of her grandmother's choice when she hears the door creak shut, sees _him_ leaning against the frame.

"_What_ are you _doing_ here?" Claire whispers harshly, not quite sure why she doesn't shout to alert the rest of her family. He looks almost harmless, standing there studying the snow-globe Nathan gave her as they left Washington. A tacky gift considering what they'd just achieved, but that was his style.

"I'd just come to see if you'd thought over my little…proposal," Sylar grins fully, twisting the globe upside down and back round again, and she's mesmerised by the falling flakes for just a second longer than she likes, and he likes too much.

"Go to hell," she quickly snaps, glaring as he laughs brazenly in her face.

"I'm not going anywhere, Claire-bear, and neither are you."

---

The next time it happens, she's getting ready for her first day at the medical school that Angela's chosen for her, Nathan's paid for and Peter's ecstatic about. She can almost sense his approach behind her, and she curses the sixth sense she has developed because of him.

"You're wasting your time," she states, still with her back to him, "Get out before I tell Peter you're here."

He leaves, but she knows it's not because of the threat she's given.

Because it's a threat she'll never carry out.

---

Claire's been in New York for a total of six months, and she's only seen the Bennet side of her family for four days of them, thanks to her grandmother. She hates her school, hates the Petrellis for putting so much pressure on her to conform, hates Peter for never being around to talk to.

He catches her crying at a family photo of her old life, back when she was still a cheerleader in Texas; she can see him through the mirror by her bed. Claire sniffs, wipes her eyes, and mumbles, "Fuck off," more half-heartedly than usual.

He stays, silent, on the edge of her bed, not moving any closer, but not leaving, either.

It's because of his presence, sinister and yet comforting in a way she can't describe, that she eventually drops off to sleep.

After that she doesn't tell him to leave anymore.

---

They begin to have conversations, if Claire can even call them that.

Whenever she's frustrated, fed up, sad, angry, she'll let everything out when he's there, no longer ashamed to show her full range of emotions in his presence.

She doesn't know if he listens, or if he even cares about what she's saying. All she registers is that he's there, and that's all she needs.

That's what she'll always need, she realises, someone there, and his proposal starts to make sense.

---

Claire kisses Sylar the day of Peter's funeral, a cold, grey October morning that reminds her of skies she woke up to on the day of her Homecoming.

He's buried in the Petrelli family plot at the centre of the city, and Claire lingers till the very end before placing her own, single flower on his grave.

Angela's gone, Nathan's gone, her mother, her father…and now her hero. The weight of eternity presses heavily on her shoulders, a young girl of 17 who, in fact, is near on 90.

She's never had a proper relationship, never been married, never had children. She's lived vicariously through her friends and family, but now she feels truly isolated.

Sylar finds her at a bar in the suburbs of the city, trying in vain to drown her sorrows. When he tries to take her back to her apartment, Claire refuses, yelling at him to leave her alone, doesn't want to see the smug, self-satisfied grin on his face.

"You were right!" She shouts, anger and frustration building up inside of her. He grabs a hold of her hand, and she pulls away, hitting him on the chest again and again until the adrenaline in her body wears itself out.

"You were right," Claire seethes, pushing his body away, "Isn't that enough?"

One more sob escapes her before she lets him lead her into a taxi, and it's at her apartment her emotions get the better of her. Their first kiss is part desperation, part grief, and in the middle of it all Claire realises she's been trying to put this off for far too long.

---

They're not a couple, not in the conventional sense. Sometimes fifty years or so go by without their paths crossing.

The comfort of it all is that he's _there_. She's not alone, will never be alone thanks to him, and that's what matters, that's what counts.


End file.
